


Nights Like These

by QueenOfAlexandria



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfAlexandria/pseuds/QueenOfAlexandria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p><br/><i>And drink to the heart</i><br/><i>Which has a will of its own</i><br/><i>My friends, let's comfort them</i><br/><i>They're feeling bad</i><br/><i>They think I've sunk so low</i><br/><br/>- <b>Carly Simon, "Jesse"</b><br/></p>
</blockquote><br/>During a drive home one night, Tulip is swept away by old memories and buried emotions.
            </blockquote>





	Nights Like These

On nights like these when she’s driving home from playing cards at the whorehouse, she can’t help but be swept away by memories of long forgotten days. She can’t help but to be swept away by the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the endorphins flooding her brain.

When things were much simpler and the only things she had to look forward to were the open road and Carly Simon teasing her ears through the speakers of her Chevelle.

During nights like these, they’d hole up into some seedy motel room counting their money from whatever job they decided to do that day. She would pass the time by painting her toes and he would chain smoke through two packs of cigarettes. She would yell at him for going through her last pack of smokes, but then he would squint at her causing her to forget why she was angry in the first place.

She’d allow Stevie Nicks to serve as a soundtrack for their long nights basking in the thrill of their last big score. She would fall asleep running her hands through his hair while he'd stroke the skin on her belly ever so often in between breaks. It was never about the money; the thrill of the chase was more than enough to keep her going. Neither one of them cared about the financial gain; they cared about the false sense of freedom that came with getting away with such a big job. The money was just an added bonus. It kept them fed and clothed, but that was all they ever really needed.

They didn’t need the money. They didn’t need anything. They just needed **each other**.

The high she got from scoring a big job with him by her side was worth more than a million Carly Simon concerts. She told him that once, and he rewarded her by giving her that winning smirk that crinkled his eyes. Her heart would skip a beat, and her breath would catch but she would never let him know that part. Knowing what she knows now, she’d give it all up just to be back in that shitty motel room with him again – shooting the shit and loving each other. 

But somewhere along the way, things went bad. Things changed, and he needed more. He wanted to leave her behind. He became weak; he couldn’t handle the heat anymore, but Tulip loved him enough to shoulder the burden. Tulip never gave up on anything once she set her mind to it. Her loyalty and love ran deep. 

Tulip was a fighter. She fought for what she wanted, and she wouldn’t stop until she got it. Growing up the way she did made things a lot easier. It helped her come to grips with the way the world worked – either you were the sheep or you were the wolf. 

It was about survival. Plain and simple. 

She could survive without him just fine, but that didn’t mean she wanted to. She could walk away right now and it wouldn’t be any skin off her teeth. She could get into her Chevelle and put Annville in her rearview like she’d done a million times before. She could forget all about this shitty town, and live her life not answering to anyone. 

But that’s not what she wanted. 

She didn’t want that. She wanted him. She wanted his stubbornness. She wanted his shitty haircut and awful costume. She wanted his raised voices and furrowed brows. 

She just wanted him – in _whatever_ way she could get him.

On nights likes these, his tiny little half smirks became the world and she its willing subject.

But then she’s brought to back to reality. In the blink of an eye, she’s reminded that things aren’t the way they used to be. She’s reminded that too much has changed between them to get that back.

But during nights like these, she realizes it doesn’t matter. 

Things may change, but they were always meant to be. It didn’t matter where they were in the world; he was hers and she was his. Their lives would forever be intertwined, and that’s what gave her hope.

Hope that things would get better; hope that he would open his eyes and finally see. 

On nights like these, she’s reminded that he’s worth it. She’s reminded that they would always find their way back to each other; because when you love someone, you don’t turn your back on them. 

But on nights like these when she’s driving down the empty highway alone, she’s tempted to give up. She’s tempted to throw in the towel, but then she has flashes of the two of them in her back seat with her thighs cradling his waist after their first big job. She has flashes of her painted nails being embedded into the skin of his sweaty back as she holds on for dear life. She has flashes of sloppy, wet kisses as the windows fog up with their breath. She has flashes of occasional grunts in her ear as she feels little puffs of his breath touch the skin of her neck.

Then, she’s thrown back into that whirlwind. She’s thrown back into the adrenaline of the moment. She’s thrown back into the intensity of her emotions. She’s thrown back into the moment of making love while the world burned around them. 

During nights like these, she craves that feeling she only gets when she’s with him – that feeling of safety, that feeling of being invincible, that feeling of being downright untouchable.

It doesn’t matter what comes after; she only ever felt alive like that with him. And somewhere deep down, she knows he feels the same way.

On nights like these, the starry sky is nothing more than a backdrop of distant memories and long, forgotten dreams to most people. But to her, the world is her canvas and dreams of her soulmate paint the night sky,

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into Preacher fanfiction, and it came to me in a dream. Not really, but it did strike me all at once. I had a burst of inspiration, and here we are. I didn't plan this, but I really liked how it turned out. I hope you like it, as well.


End file.
